


Edward Elric for Beginners

by sainnis



Series: Fellowes Mews [16]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Bodyswap, Canon-Typical Violence, Defining the Relationship, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 10:50:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20290243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sainnis/pseuds/sainnis
Summary: Set before Roy Mustang's run for Prime Minister in the Fellows Mews universe. Written as a gift for @nyagosstar.In the early days of their relationship, a dark transmutation circle in the basement of King Bradley's manor draws Roy and Ed into a dangerous mystery. Roy gets in too deep, Ed can't say no, Al finds out, and alchemy continues to cause more problems than it fixes.





	Edward Elric for Beginners

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nyagosstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyagosstar/gifts).

> I started writing this fic a few years ago and re-discovered it digging around my laptop this fall, and I knew I had to finish it as a holiday gift for @nyagosstar. It was a treat to go back to the Fellowes Mews universe and remember why I love Ed and Roy so much. Since I've been back on ao3 more often, I figured it was time to share it.

Roy stared up at the ceiling, still panting for breath and grinning like a fool. Ed collapsed against Roy’s chest as he huffed a laugh.

Roy’s voice rumbled through his ribs. “Hero of the People indeed.”

Ed dissolved into laughter. “Oh, my God.”

“I can’t breathe. Holy shit. I haven’t been,” Roy said, gasping a bit for show, “winded like this since basic training.”

“Your heart is racing.” Ed stretched out his automail hand, tapping against Roy’s skin in time with the pulse. 

Roy was still smiling. “Yeah, well, so’s yours. I can feel it banging against my ribs.”

Ed kissed the skin over Roy’s sternum. “We should probably just lay here and wait until they slow down.”

“Good idea.” Roy stroked Ed’s forehead, brushing the hair gently out of his eyes. “You have really good ideas. Like this. Tonight was your idea too.”

Ed laughed, leaning into Roy’s touch. “All I suggested was that we skip dinner and go right for the sex.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Roy said, wrapping his arms more tightly around Ed. “Brilliant.”

They fell silent, but instead of the kind of quiet after sex where it was awkward and terrible and you couldn’t get out of the room fast enough, it was a different kind of quiet, a new sort where he felt comfortable and necessary and almost like he didn’t want to leave at all. He liked feeling the places where their bodies leaned against each other, the warm thump of Roy’s heart against his cheek, and the way his fingers entwined with Ed’s metal ones. 

Roy cleared his throat, and then took a long breath. “I’m not sleeping with anyone else.” 

Ed lifted his head, turning onto his stomach to look Roy in the eyes. “Is this an official announcement or something?”

“I’m just saying,” Roy said, shrugging awkwardly, “that you’re the only person I’m sleeping with. I mean, I know we haven’t been seeing each other that long but I thought you should know.”

Ed bumped his hip against Roy’s. “I’m not sleeping with anyone else either. Figured you knew.”

“That’s good.” Roy waited a long beat before speaking again. “I’m glad.”

“Okay, what is this actually about?” Ed narrowed his gaze. “You’re starting to freak me out.”

“Well,” Roy hesitated, “I need to tell you that I told Hughes. About us.”

“What? When?”

“The day before yesterday,” Roy said. “He’s more intuitive than most people give him credit for and he was starting to notice things.” 

Ed froze. “What kinds of things?”

Roy laughed a little before he spoke. “He said I seemed happier than I’d been in a long time. He asked me about you, and I told him.” He smoothed a hand over Ed’s shoulder. “He won’t say anything to anyone.”

“It’s not like that.” Ed’s chest constricted. “The only reason I haven’t told Al is because I didn’t know what to say at first. ‘Mustang and I are fucking’ just doesn’t seem appropriate.”

Roy’s voice was quiet. “It’s not just fucking, Ed.”

“I know it’s not.” Ed let out a ragged breath. “What did you tell Hughes?”

“I said that we were together.”

“Oh.” Ed rolled the word around in his mind. “That’s actually…I think I like that.”    


Roy pressed his lips to Ed’s forehead. “I’m sorry to throw you off like that. Hughes just asked and I didn’t see any reason to not tell him the truth.” 

“No, don’t be sorry.” He dropped his chin. “What did he say?”

Roy made a noncommittal sound. “Eh, he said you could do better.” 

“He’s not wrong,” Ed scoffed. 

“He also said that if I hurt you that he’ll kill me in my sleep. He still has some parental feeling towards you, apparently.”

Ed laughed. “Please. Al will get to you long before Hughes ever will. And he’ll make it look like an accident.” 

“I was well aware that if this went wrong it could mean my death.” Roy shrugged, a half smile on his face. “It was a calculated risk.”

Ed tilted his head, kissing Roy on his smug mouth. “So we’re together.”

Roy looked up at him. “Is that okay with you?” 

“It’s very okay. More than okay.” 

Roy pulled the blankets more closely around them. “I think you should stay tonight. The pizza place around the corner delivers 24/7.”

Ed hesitated. “Al’s big exams are tomorrow. I want to make him breakfast, you know? It’s a big deal.” 

“It’s okay. I understand. Next time.” Roy reached for the phone. “You could still stay for pizza, though.”

“I will definitely stay for pizza.” Ed glanced towards the bathroom. “And I think there’s enough time for us to grab a shower before the guy gets here.”

Roy grinned. “You and your great ideas.”

*

Ed poured two cups of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table, pushing one across the table towards his brother. “Al, you awake?” Al’s head rested on a large stack of medical textbooks, his notes spilling into his lap and onto the floor.

“Hey. There’s coffee.”

Al’s eyes opened slowly. “Crap.” He lifted his head, displaying a long red line across his cheek where the binding of one of the books had left a mark. Somehow he had managed full-blown bedhead without even being close to one for the past few days. “What time is it?”

“It’s 7:30 in the morning.” He heard the toaster ding. “You hungry? I made toast.”

After taking a long swig of coffee, Al nodded. “Yeah.” He looked at Ed quizzically. “What are you even doing up? You’re on break.”

Ed gave him a grin. “I know, but I wanted to support you on your big day.” He retrieved the toast, smearing on butter and raspberry jam and setting it in front of Al. “I’m really proud of you, you know?” He dropped a hand on Al’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

Al ducked his head. “Yeah, well, you’re already a professor.”

“Lecturer.” Ed laughed. “All the work with none of the tenure possibilities.”

Al spoke around a mouthful of toast. “They do have to call you Professor Elric, though. Or Hero of the People.”

Ed nearly spit out his coffee. “Seriously, Al, how long do you think I’ll be able to stand it grading their abysmal papers and teaching these poor idiots alchemy? They have no imagination.” 

Al’s mouth quirked. “Well, I suspect they won’t get into nearly as much trouble as we did.”

“You’re not wrong there.” He stretched his arms out behind him, trying to relieve some of the tension in his shoulders. “What time are your exams again?”

“They start at 9am and should be over around 3pm.” Al let out a long breath as he started organizing some of his notecards, picking up the wayward ones around his feet. “Then I get to worry about whether or not I passed.” 

Ed rolled his eyes. “Please. You’re brilliant. You passed the State Alchemy exam when you were just a kid.” The phone rang, and Ed jumped up. “Got it.” He grabbed the receiver. “Elrics.”

“Ed?”

His heart started beating faster as soon as he heard the voice on the line, but he took a quick breath to keep his voice calm. “Mustang. You’re up early.” 

“I got called in. We’ve got a problem.” 

“Do we ever get anything else?”

Roy huffed a laugh into the receiver. “This has been an interesting morning. Listen, I need someone with advanced alchemy knowledge. Someone other than me, of course. You up for a consulting gig?”

“That all depends.”

“On what, the fee?”

Ed stepped around the doorframe, twisting the phone cord around his metal hand. “I’m more particular about who I’m working with.” 

“The usual suspects, myself included.”

“Then I’m in.”

“You don’t even know what the problem is yet.” Roy cleared his throat. “You’re not going to like it much.”

Ed shrugged. “If you’re calling me, you must need my help.”

“I really do.” He could hear the relief in Roy’s tone. “Thanks, Ed.” It still sounded strange to hear his own first name coming from Roy’s lips. “A car is already on its way to pick you up.”

Ed snorted. “Am I really that predictable?” 

“I’m not going to answer that. See you soon.”

Ed hung up the phone and walked back into the kitchen, and his brother gave him a narrow look as he came through the doorway. “I thought you said you weren’t going to take military jobs anymore.”

“It’s our friends, Al, it’s not ‘the military’.” Ed drained what was left of his coffee. “And the university doesn’t pay me all summer. One or two days with them and I’ll make over a month’s salary. It’s just one tiny consulting gig.”

“I’m not saying that you shouldn’t help our friends.” Al ran his hands through his wayward hair with a sigh. “But we really don’t need the money, and you know if Mustang’s involved that it’s going to be dangerous.” 

Ed waved his hand. “He’s not even on active duty anymore. He’s basically governmental at this point. Plus Hughes will be there. And Hawkeye. It’s probably just some codework or research questions. You know how much Mustang hates looking things up.”

Al’s expression didn’t change. “I want to go on record saying that I don’t like it.”

“Your objections have been duly noted.” Ed dropped a few more pieces of bread in the toaster. “I don’t know if you’d understand, but honestly? I’m bored. I need a puzzle to solve, something to keep my brain working, or otherwise I feel like I’ll go nuts.”

Al raised his eyebrows at him. “Why do you think I went to medical school?”

“To be a kickass doctor?”

“We spent our lives helping people, brother, and I needed to find a way to keep doing that.”

The toast popped up, and Ed handed a slice to Al, buttering the other one for himself just as a car horn beeped outside. “That’s my ride.”

“Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I’m always careful.” Ed gave him a wave as he grabbed his jacket and headed out. “Good luck!”

One of the military’s less ostentatious black sedans waited for him at the curb. Ed peered through the window, not in the least bit surprised to find Havoc at the wheel, an unlit cigarette dangling off his bottom lip. “Howdy, boss. Been awhile.”

“Good to see you too, Havoc.” He climbed into the back seat. “Did Mustang tell you what’s going on?”

Havoc shrugged into the rearview mirror as they drove away from the small house Ed shared with Al. “I’m always the last to know. All I can tell you is where we’re going.”

“Yeah?”

“King Bradley’s old manor.”

*

“Glad you could make it, Fullmetal.” Roy stood in front of the former Bradley manor, which retained little of its former glory. Boards shuttered every window, and padlocks chained all its entrances. Even its gardens had been eliminated, leaving only overturned soil where roses used to grow. 

“Good to see you too, Brigadier.” Ed missed calling him Colonel, but he knew the title bump meant something to the man. Roy looked surprisingly well-rested for someone who hadn’t gotten more than a few hours’ sleep. “What’d you send Havoc away for? Where is everybody?” 

“Listen.” Roy took a step closer, speaking softly. “We’re in this alone. I didn’t want to say it over the phone, but I don’t want the rest of my crew involved in what’s inside this house. I haven’t seen it with my own eyes, but I have a few photographs.” He handed Ed an envelope. “It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before, but I know enough to know that this is something you and I need to handle.”

Ed opened the envelope. “What the fuck is this?” 

Roy grunted. “That’s exactly what I said. It’s like some bizarre amalgamation of the Grand Arcanum with extra weird shit thrown in.”

Following the lines of the patterns in the grainy photos, Ed shook his head. “It’s not a clear picture, but I can tell you right now this would never work for human transmutation. The flow of energy is all wrong. Either way, there is nothing good that can come from this thing if Bradley was involved with it.”

“He didn’t do anything by half measures, though. It had some sort of intended use, and I’d like to know what that was.”

Ed handed him back the photos. “You could just burn the house down.”

“They tried that already. The soldiers that found it tried to scrub out the transmutation circle, but even though it’s carved in a wooden floor, it won’t burn.” Roy shrugged. “Like I said, that’s where you and I come in.”

“So what’s the plan, then?” Ed shoved his gloved hands in his pockets, turning his back against the wind. 

“We’ll go in, check it out. If it’s live, we’ll deactivate it and destroy it.” Roy grinned. “Demolition is one of our specialties.” 

“Sounds good.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the manor. “Age before beauty.”

Roy feigned a frown, taking out a set of keys from his pocket. “Please. I’m definitely prettier than you.”

The front door opened with an eerie creak, and they both started to laugh. “This is like a bad horror film,” Roy said, stepping inside the entryway. 

“We should absolutely split up. Nothing bad ever happens when people do that.” Ed looked around the foyer, staring up at a dusty chandelier. “Can you imagine living in a place like this?” They walked into a receiving room with cathedral ceilings, complete with a massive staircase. All the remaining furniture—all antiques, surely—was covered with white sheets. “How many bedrooms are there in this place? Twenty-five?”

Roy laughed. “Thirty-two, actually. I was looking over the blueprints to make sure there wasn’t anything I was missing.”

“Thirty- rooms. It’s insane.”

“To be fair, so was he.” He gave a small smile as he looked around the place. “I don’t think it’d be so bad, living like this.” 

“So where is this thing?”

“It’s downstairs,” Roy said, his smile fading. “This way.”

They made their way down one of the servant’s staircases off the kitchen. Roy flicked a light switch on the wall, and Ed was surprised when the bare lightbulb on the ceiling sprang to life. “They’re still paying the electric bill for this monstrosity?”

“There’s still a lot of work to be done on this property before it can be sold.” Roy led the way down the stairs. “As if anyone would ever want to buy it.”

“Like I said, burning it down is still an option.”

The rooms below the house seemed to go on forever, and Ed shivered to think about some of the horrors that had taken place just steps from where he stood. They turned on lights as they went, which cast a pale, unhealthy glow on everything. Upstairs, the house was all marble and stone, but below, it was wood and metal and concrete. 

“This way,” Roy said. “They said it was the last door on the left. It’s some kind of huge practice room, maybe used for fencing.”

The room was massive and had the trappings of a sporting space, but Ed doubted anything so pedestrian ever went on there. Thick columns of concrete were spaced evenly throughout the space to hold up the ceiling. “That thing is huge,” Ed said, staring down at the symbols taking up most of the floor. “God, it’s so wrong. I don’t even like looking at it.”

Roy nodded, stepping slowly around the perimeter. “I know what you mean. It makes you almost a little sick if you stare at it for too long.”

The floors were made of polished mahogany, shining dully in the light. Ed dropped to his knees, looking closer at the transmutation circle. “This took a long time to make. Look, they cut the thing into the floor and then lined it with metal.” He pointed at the lines, which were carved fingertip-deep. 

Some of the lines were definitely from the Grand Arcanum, but there were patterns adapted from other transmutation circles as well, looping in on one another in a dizzying array. “I don’t want to know what this does. I just want it gone.” 

Roy peered closer at it. “It’s for some kind of human alchemy, but it’s not about reanimation. And I don’t think it’s for killing, either; look at that part there. You’d never have lines like that in something that was meant for destruction.”

Ed folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t care if it secretly saves the lives of homeless animals. There is no way I’m coming down on the side of preserving this thing.”

“I’m not saying we preserve it. I just wish I knew what it was for. I thought if I saw it for myself I’d be able to figure it out. Or that you’d be able to.”

“There’s only one way to find out what it’s for, and you’d better believe that is not happening.” Ed took a long breath. “It’s not for human transmutation in the sense of bringing people back to life, and you’re right that it’s not for killing. I think it’s actually two or three transmutation circles laid on top of one another, and I think it’s for some kind of human enhancement, but I can’t be sure.” Ed pointed down. “And then there’s these weird marks on the outside of it. I have no idea what that’s about.”

Roy ran a hand through his hair, releasing a sigh. “I know you’re right. It’s got to go. I don’t like leaving a mystery unsolved, but if Bradley made it, it can’t be for any beneficial purpose.” He stood outside the circle, gesturing towards the other side. “I’ll stay here, and you head over there. You can break down the wood and then I can incinerate the leftover particles.”

Ed walked the perimeter of the circle until he stood directly across from Roy, between two of the concrete columns. “You ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. On three.” Ed counted down, clapping his hands and slamming them on the floor. Suddenly, the entire room lit up as the transmutation circle activated, and Ed panicked, clapping again as he tried to stop it. “Fuck!” 

The lightbulbs burst. The floor started shaking, and Ed fell to his knees. He tried to look up, tried to find Roy, but ceiling was beginning to collapse around him and the air filled with dust. He choked, trying to see through the haze, but his vision went black.

* 

He awoke sprawled on his side, blinking in the darkness. Ed winced as he pushed himself to his knees, his head spinning. His entire body felt out of joint, as if he’d been shaken out of his skin. Staggering to his feet, he coughed violently, trying to get the dust out of his lungs. 

He heard a sharp cry from the other side of the room, and he moved towards the sound, shouting Roy’s name. The sound of his voice rung strangely in his own ears; he was so hoarse from coughing that it came out much lower than he expected. “Where are you?”

A shaky groan followed, and Ed fumbled his way across the broken floor in the direction of the sound. Touching the ground, he felt around until his hand closed around a piece of broken wood. He clapped, waiting for the wood to ignite. 

A wave of awfulness swept over him. His stomach rolled, and he dropped to his knees, throwing up. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, trembling. “What the fuck?” 

“Ed!” The voice that called his name was desperate, panicked. It sounded odd in his ears, almost not like Roy at all. 

“I’m coming! I can’t see a fucking thing!”

“Use my lighter!” Roy bit back a cry of pain. “Left pocket!”

Ed stopped, putting a hand in his pocket and pulling out a silver lighter. “What the hell?” He started patting his chest, suddenly realizing that he was wearing someone else’s clothes. A uniform? “Oh, my God.” There was no bolt through his collarbone. No automail at all. “Shit. Shit. Shit!” 

“Roy!” He picked up another piece of the mahogany floor, flicking the lighter until it came to life. The makeshift torch provided enough illumination for him to see that the ceiling had partially collapsed on the other side of the room. He tried to run, but this body was strange and his balance was completely off; he barely caught himself before he tripped and fell to the floor. 

“I’m here,” Roy said weakly, and Ed spun around until the light fell on him.

Ed had seen his fair share of disturbing sights in his life thus far, but it was something else altogether to see his own body collapsed on the floor like a broken toy. A large chunk of ceiling had fallen on his automail leg, and bits of its internal mechanics were scattered across the floor. Part of his arm was missing as well, leaving wires exposed. Ed held up the torch, trying to catch Roy’s gaze. 

“Roy. Roy. It’s okay. Don’t freak out.”

“I don’t understand. You’re me,” Roy said, panting for breath. “I’m you.”

“I know. We’ll figure it out.” 

Roy groaned. “I’m stuck. I can’t move.”

“Is it just the left leg?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. We can deal with that. We’ll just take it off and get out of here.” He tried to give Roy a smile, but he had a feeling it wasn’t as optimistic as he intended it to be. “Can you hold the torch for me for a second?”

Roy’s one good hand shook, but he held the torch aloft so Ed could dig through the rubble. “Do you have a knife?”

“Right pocket.” 

“Perfect.” Ed pulled out the knife, cutting off the pant leg around the top of his automail. “So here’s the deal. I’m going to disconnect the automail, and it’s going to hurt. But there isn’t anything wrong, you understand? It just hurts. It’s just pain.” He waited a beat to make sure Roy was listening. “And give me the torch. We don’t need you setting anything on fire right now.” He propped the torch up on a piece of rubble, giving him sufficient light to see by. “Are you ready?”

Roy nodded. “Yeah.”

“All right.” Ed reached under the back of his automail knee, feeling for the panel where the switch was. “I’m sorry, it’ll just be a second,” he said, finally getting the door to open. “Okay.” He pressed the switch, and Roy screamed.

“You’re okay, remember? You’re okay.” Ed unhooked the broken leg from its port, freeing Roy. “It’s over.”

Roy had his one good hand pressed over his mouth, and he shuddered as Ed dragged his body away from the rubble. “Oh my God, Ed, I didn’t know, I didn’t know.”

“We need to get out of here. This place could come down any moment.” He reached down, pulling Roy up with him. Without the automail leg, his body weighed much less, which made it easier for Ed to carry Roy across the room and up the stairs.

It took far longer than Ed liked to get out of the manor, but they finally reached the front door. Roy’s head lolled against Ed’s shoulder. “My car is outside.” 

Roy’s black sedan was parked nearby, and Ed pulled off Roy’s trademark gloves, fumbling in his pockets to find the keys. “You never let me drive,” Ed said, panting as he lifted Roy’s body into the passenger seat. Now that they were outside, he could see the full extent of Roy’s injuries; there were bruises across his face and neck, and his automail arm was in terrible shape. 

Something dripped into his eye, and it burned. “Shit,” Ed said, touching above his eye to find a long cut. 

“You’re bleeding,” Roy said, pointing at him.

“Yeah, I know. Just a little.”

“No, Ed, you’re bleeding.” 

Ed looked down to find a hole ripped in his uniform, blood staining the edges. He hadn’t even felt the wound until Roy pointed it out. Goddamned adrenaline. “Shit.” He touched the skin over his ribs, fingers coming back red. “We need to go.” 

Roy curled miserably against the door. “We can’t go to the hospital.”

“I know. I’m not taking us to the hospital.”

“What?” Roy sounded panicked. “Where are you going to take us?”

“Al. He’ll know what to do.”

*

The drive back home was successful, all things considered, but Ed hoped that Roy wouldn’t notice that he had knocked off the driver’s side mirror after coming too close to a telephone pole. Pulling into the driveway, he saw Al’s car was there and he nearly cried with relief. “We’re here. I’ll come around and get you out.”

Roy didn’t respond. Ed picked Roy up and carried him up the front steps, grateful that their neighbors weren’t around for once. This wouldn’t be an easy one to explain away. He got them inside, and then started shouting Al’s name.

Al woke with a gasp, sprawled across the couch in the living room. He looked at Ed strangely, dark circles underneath his stare. “Brigadier Mustang? How did you get in my house?”

“Al, we need you. Roy’s hurt. I think he passed out.”

Al’s confused expression continued, but he climbed to his feet. “Um, you mean Ed, right? Let’s get him upstairs. I’ll get my things.”

Ed staggered up the stairs, acutely aware of the wet stain on his side. He went into the guest bedroom, gently setting Roy on the duvet of one of the twin beds. Al followed close behind, carrying his black bag and rushing to Roy’s bedside. 

“Al, listen, I need to explain something.”

Al glanced at him, and then his eyes widened. “Brigadier, you’re bleeding.”

“I understand that, but I need you to listen—“

“You need to lie down.” Al dropped a hand on his shoulder, leading him towards the other bed.

“Goddammit, just listen to me for once! I’m not the Brigadier! I’m Ed!” He pointed frantically at the body on the bed. “That’s Mustang!”

Al nodded in that annoying, patient way of his. “You’re hurt, and you’re a little confused. It’s okay. Just lie down, all right?”

“We were trying to destroy a transmutation circle in Bradley’s old manor but instead of destroying it, we set it off, and now I’m in Roy’s body and he’s in mine.” Ed could see in the lines of Al’s body that he didn’t believe a word of Ed’s explanation. “It swapped our souls, okay? I might look like Mustang and sound like Mustang but I am your brother. I’m Ed. Understand?”

Al took another step towards him. “Brigadier, I think you’ve lost a lot of blood—“

Ed pressed a hand over his eyes. “Okay. You need proof. Fine. How were your exams today? You look pretty tired after being up all night studying. How about this morning when you warned me that this whole thing was going to be a shitstorm and God, why don’t I ever listen to you?” Ed sat on the edge of the bed, trying to think. “The first thing you wanted to eat when you got your body back was apple pie. You always have trouble keeping your left guard up when we spar. You still have bad dreams about one or two nights a week. The worst grade you got in med school was an 84, and it was because you got the date of the test mixed up and hadn’t studied. Also, you snore.”

Al stepped back, staring at him open-mouthed. “Ed?”

“It’s really me.” 

“This is really freaking me out.” Al blinked at him, stunned. “I mean it’s his voice but it’s your words coming out and--“

“I get it.” Ed waved at hand in Roy’s direction. “Part of the ceiling collapsed on him. I think the automail got the worst of it but I couldn’t really see. Check on him first, okay?”

“Your wound—“

“I’m fine! Please, just help him!” There was a desperation in his own voice that startled him, and Ed tried to soften his tone. “Please, Al.”

“Fine. You lay down. I’ll be with you in a minute.” Al turned to examine Roy, taking his stethoscope out of his bag and listening to his chest. 

Ed started unbuttoning the jacket of Roy’s uniform, hissing through his teeth as he pulled the fabric away from the wound in his side. The white undershirt of Roy’s uniform was soaked through, and he grimaced. He should have stopped to bind it up before they left the Manor. The blood on his forehead had dried and was now starting to itch, and he rubbed at it with the back of his hand. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s unconscious. I need to take the arm off.” Al took what was left of Ed’s arm in hand. “He’s still in pain and I don’t like his vitals. Your vitals. Whatever.” He reached underneath Ed’s arm, opening up the release panel. “This mail is shot but the port is fine, thank goodness.” There was a slight click as the mail released, coming away in one broken piece. “Good thing we have a few more sets on hand here at the house.” Al pressed his fingers to Roy’s neck, finally nodding after a few moments. “That’s helping. Hopefully he’ll wake up soon.”

Al moved to Ed’s bedside, bringing his bag. He produced a pair of shears and cut open the ruined undershirt, frowning at Ed’s wound as he pulled the fabric away. “That’s going to need stitches.”

Ed grunted as Al touched the skin around it. “Great.”

“How did this happen?” Al said. “Was it the ceiling, like what happened to Ed? I mean, Mustang?”

“I honestly don’t remember.” 

“Hold this there, would you?” Al pressed a square of clean linen over the wound and then put Ed’s hand over it. “Keep pressure on this. Just want to check a few things.” 

Ed glanced at Roy’s unmoving form as Al conducted his ministrations. “You think he’ll be okay?”

“I think so. Take a deep breath for me.”

Ed did so. “Do you think he’d feel better if we put a set of automail on now?”

Al pointed at his stethoscope. “Quiet. I’m almost done.” He wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Ed’s arm and took a reading.

“You’re making the face, Al. The face they tell you not to in medical school.”

Al looked hurt. “I’m not making a face.” He put the cuff away and took out a suturing kit. “Your blood pressure’s a little low, and I don’t have any equipment to run an IV.”

“Just stitch me up. I’ll be okay.” Ed tried to give his brother a thin smile. “It’s not like I’ve--well, Roy--never lost blood before.”

“If we were at the hospital—“

“If we were at the hospital, everyone would think I’m Roy. What happens when the questions start coming that I can’t answer, or the Prime Minister shows up in a crisis? You barely believed me. Imagine what other people would think.” 

Al sighed. “I know.” He lifted the square of linen on Ed’s wound. “The bleeding’s slowed a bit at least. If your pressure drops any more, though, I can’t in good conscience keep you here.” 

Ed acquiesced as Al cleaned his wound. “I understand.” 

“You’re lucky this thing isn’t as deep as I thought. You’ll need some antibiotics, though. I’ll have to see what I have left over from the last time you cut yourself open.” He prepped a shot of lidocaine. “This’ll sting, but you won’t feel anything in a minute.” 

Ed gritted his teeth at the pain of the needle. “Shit, that burns.”

“Yeah, it does. I’m sorry,” Al said, putting aside the syringe. “That’s the worst of it, though. Just lie still for me and I’ll get you patched up, all right?”

In a worn flannel shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows and a pair of patched cotton pants, Al didn’t look anything like a doctor, but there was something about the way he held himself, the way he moved his hands, that surprised Ed. He hadn’t been on the receiving end of Al’s medical training to this degree before and he had to admit his brother’s skills were nothing short of excellent.

“I’ve had stitches before and they always hurt, but I can’t feel anything right now,” Ed said, staring at the ceiling so as not to accidentally look at what Al was doing. It was unnerving enough to be in someone else’s body, especially Roy’s, without watching that body bleed. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Al said. “You really don’t remember how this happened?”

“Everything happened really fast. I remember being in my body, and then I think I must have passed out for a moment because I woke up in Roy’s body. The ceiling was collapsing so I’m sure that must have been it, but the pain didn’t even register until we got out of the manor.” Ed lifted up his right hand, Roy’s hand, staring at it. The hand was scarred across the palm, and a visible landscape of veins crisscrossed the back. “God, this is weird. I mean, we’ve been through a lot of crazy shit, but this is seriously bizarre.”

“We’ll find a way to switch you back. If I could get my body back, well, this can’t be as difficult as that.” Al kept stitching and Ed kept on not looking. “We may need to let some people know what’s happened, though. Hughes and Hawkeye don’t go for 24 hours without talking to Mustang, and I’m sorry, brother, but your acting skills aren’t that good.” 

At the mention of Hughes’ name, Ed felt his stomach clench. He hadn’t talked to Al this morning about Roy because of how stressed he was with his exams, but he needed to tell him the truth. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”

Al stopped, looking Ed in the eyes, voice taut. “Are you hurt somewhere else? Lightheaded? What’s going on?”

“It’s not like that.” Ed paused. “I should have told you before, and I feel badly that I haven’t said anything until now, I mean it’s still sort of new, kind of, but…it’s that, well,” he paused, trying to remember how Roy said it. “Roy and I are…together.”

“Together?” Al’s mouth curled. “Like together together?”

“Um, yes.”

“God, you scared me! I thought it was going to be something bad.” Al said, resuming his stitching. “It’s about time.” 

Ed almost tried to sit up, but Al nudged him back down. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Ed, I know you better than anyone else on earth. Of course I knew you had feelings for him.”

“When did you figure it out?”

“The new year’s party. Last December.”

Ed felt his face flush. “Oh.”

“I’m happy for you, brother.” Al tied off the last suture. “But you know you could have told me from the start, right?”

Releasing a long breath, Ed thought for a moment before he spoke. “I wanted to tell you right away, but there’s all the backstory and he’s older and I was afraid you might—“

“Age differences don’t really bother me.” Al started bandaging the wound, securing the gauze with paper tape. 

“So you’re not mad. That I didn’t tell you.”

“Don’t be dense.” Al checked his vitals again, keeping his face more inscrutable. “The timing’s a bit off, given that you look like him right now and it’s making me feel like I might be having a seizure or something, but I’m not mad.” He expression softened. “But I’m not other people. You can always talk to me. You know I’ll listen.” 

Ed looked up at his brother. What on earth had he done to deserve someone like him? “Thanks, Al.” 

“Mustang is a stand-up guy and I really appreciate all he’s done for us over the years, but I swear to you, if messes with you,” Al said, his voice suddenly cold, “believe me, he will regret it.”

A weak voice sounded from the other bed. “Message received.”

“Roy!” Ed sat up, but Al pushed him back again. 

“You stay down.” He handed Ed a tall glass of water. “Drink it. All of it. And be quiet.” Al crossed the room, sitting on the bed next to Roy. “How’s the pain?”

“Better than it was.” Roy lay still as Al checked his pulse. “You took my arm off?”

“We’ll replace your arm and leg in the morning if you’re up to it,” Al said. “I think it’s best to just let you rest tonight.”

Roy used his remaining arm to push himself up, groaning as he did so. “We need to figure out what we’re going to do to fix this.” He shivered a bit. “God, it’s freezing in here.”

“Ha!” Ed pointed in Roy’s direction as Al got him a blanket. “Maybe now you’ll stop making fun of me for always being cold.”

The phone rang and Al went out into the hallway to answer it. 

“Ten cens says it’s Hughes,” Roy said.

Ed lifted his eyebrows, still smeared with dried blood. “Ten cens says it’s Hawkeye.”

Al stepped back into the room, frowning with a hand over the receiver. “It’s Hawkeye,” he whispered, “and she sounds really mad.” 

“I win,” Ed said.

“What am I supposed to tell her? Who should I put her on the phone with?” Al held out the phone, dragging the cord around the corner to reach their beds. “One of you is explaining this one because I am definitely not.”

“She’ll know it’s not me in a second,” Roy said. “It’s got to be you, Ed.”

Ed exhaled, resigned to his fate. “Fine.” He held the phone to his ear. “Hello, Captain.”

“With all due respect, where the hell have you been all day, sir? Havoc said he saw you this morning but no one’s heard from you since.”

“I’ve been…busy,” Ed said, staring pointedly at Roy hoping he’d supply some help. “You know, doing things that Brigadiers do.”

Roy clapped a hand over his eyes, muttering under his breath.

Hawkeye left a dangerous pause hang in the air. “Sir, is there something wrong?” 

“Actually, yes, in a manner of speaking.”

“In what manner of speaking, sir?” Her words were so sharp he almost felt them prick him through the phone.

“I’m not really myself right now,” Ed said.

Roy grunted, reaching out with his one good hand. “Give me the phone. Give it to me. Now.”

“Brigadier Mustang, are you drunk?”

“No. Not drunk. It’s a kind of hard to explain.” Ed massaged his temple with his free hand. This conversation was giving him a headache. “I was with Roy—I mean, I was with Ed, you know, Edward Elric, Hero of the People, and there was an accident, which involved alchemy, and now Roy is stuck in my body, I mean Roy is stuck in Ed’s body and--” Ed sighed. “Hawkeye, listen. You’re talking with Ed now. Roy’s soul is stuck in my body and my soul is stuck in Roy’s body. Does that make sense?”

There was a long pause. “Hawkeye? I can hear you breathing.”

Her tone was pure ice. “Put Al on the phone. Now.”

Ed held out the receiver to his brother. “She wants to talk to you.”

Al’s eyes widened. “Why?”

“Just take it.”

Al did so reluctantly. “Hi. Yes, I know it sounds crazy, but it’s the truth. It’s one of the weirdest things I’ve ever seen, and you know we’ve both seen a lot of weird stuff. What? Oh. I don’t think tonight is a good idea; they had some injuries I had to tend to. Yes, I know. The hospital would have made better sense. No, they’re going to be okay.” The conversation trailed off as Al took the phone back into the hallway.

“Nice work with Hawkeye,” Roy said. “Really A+ material.”

“Shut up. Being you is a pain in the ass.”

The bruises on Roy’s face were showing up more clearly now, purpling his temple and cheek. “How the hell are we going to get our bodies back?”

“Maybe we can recreate the circle. Just do it again.”

“That circle was massive, though. And we don’t even know how we activated it, or how it works.” Roy sighed. “And I’m starving.”

Ed felt his lips tug in a smile. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

Al reentered the room, his expression set. “Okay. Here’s what’s happening. Hughes and Hawkeye will be here in the morning. They’re putting in a call in to Scieczka because of all the alchemic reading she did for us. They impounded Bradley’s book collection at Central, so she can start working on that as well. She’s out of town but she’ll get the next train in, hopefully. As for you,” Al said, gesturing at Ed, “you’ve caught a terrible flu and won’t be expected to return to work this week, or maybe longer.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “We’ll figure this out. Don’t worry.” Al’s trademark smile returned to his face. “At any rate, food always helps. I’ll get us some dinner. Don’t move, either one of you. Seriously.”

*

Ed couldn’t sleep. The paracetemol Al had given him had worn off, and his wound ached. There was gauze taped to his forehead now too, covering the gash over his eye. After dinner Roy had demanded Al stitch it up since it was his precious face and he might go into office someday, so Ed suffered another needle on Roy’s behalf. At least his blood pressure was satisfactory enough for Al to stop threatening an ambulance. He listened to Roy’s breathing, wondering if its slow pace was because he was asleep or because he was pretending to be.

“Roy,” he whispered.

There was a delay before an answer came. “What?”

“Are you still awake?”

“Obviously.”

“You okay?”

Roy sighed. “I’m freezing.”

Ed pushed himself to a sitting position, groaning as the stitches in his side pulled a bit, and then stood up unsteadily, surprised to find he was lightheaded. “Whoa.” He righted himself against the wall, and then walked slowly across the room to Roy’s bed. “Move over.”

“What are you doing?” Roy hissed. “You’re not supposed to be walking my body around.”

“Just move over.” Ed climbed into Roy’s bed, slipping in next to him and pulling the blankets over them both. 

Roy lay beside him, poking Ed’s shoulder with one finger. “God, this is weird.”

“I know it’s weird. It’s fucking crazy.” He gritted his teeth as he tried to settle himself, wishing Al had left him more medicine. “Do you want me to go back to my bed?”

Roy scoffed. “No.”

“Well, good, because I’m still a little dizzy from walking over here.” 

“Are you going to pass out?” Roy sounded a little alarmed. 

“I’m not going to pass out. Relax.” Ed reached out his hand and then hesitated. “Can I…touch you?”

Roy’s voice was quiet. “I guess. It’s your body, right?”

“It’s yours for now,” Ed said, feeling under the blankets with his right hand to grab Roy’s left. He rubbed his thumb over Roy’s knuckles. “God, your skin is so cold! You want me to get a little closer, warm you up?”

Roy didn’t answer, but inched himself up against Ed’s uninjured side. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No, you’re fine.” He reached his arm around Roy, letting him rest his head on his chest. “Are the ports still painful?”

Roy shook his head. “Not anymore. I just keep thinking that my other arm and leg are there and then I try to move them and…well,” he paused, “you know.”

“Yeah. Not having automail on kind of sucks. When it’s on, everything feels normal. At least my kind of normal, anyway. But without them, you start to get panicky and it’s this whole dissociative mental thing. I won’t bore you with the psychological research studies.” Ed ran his hand over Roy’s head. In the dark, it was easier to forget that it was technically his own hair he was stroking, his own forehead he was pressing a kiss to. “I promise it’ll be easier tomorrow once we get the automail back on.” 

“I didn’t know it would feel like this. I always wondered, you know?” Roy shivered against him. 

Ed rubbed Roy’s back, trying to warm him up. “How does it feel to you?”

Roy was silent for a few moments. “At first I thought you hurt all the time, the way it felt when the automail was crushed, and I thought that you must be the toughest son of a bitch in Amestris. And then I realized that it’s not supposed to hurt constantly, or at least not that badly.” He hesitated. “But right now I can’t even stand up to piss and I feel so goddamn weak and…I don’t know what else to say.”

Ed sighed. “You kind of got the raw end of the deal.”

“Being you is not the raw end of the deal,” Roy protested, nudging Ed’s chest with his chin. 

“I just mean it’s a lot easier for me to jump into your body than it is for you to jump into mine.” Ed shrugged. “Mine has its quirks. I mean, besides everything with the automail issues and the maintenance, there’s the cold thing, and the scar tissue, and the pulled muscles at the end of the day when I don’t take time to stretch properly. Oh yeah, and the milk thing isn’t just because I hate the flavor. I can’t fucking digest it and the results are awful if I try, so watch out for that.” He shrugged. “I guess I should have a manual or something.”

“Edward Elric for Beginners,” Roy said, finally settling in against him. “I can’t stop wanting to touch your abs, though,” he said. “God, they’re hot. That’s probably really bizarre.”

“Nah. Go for it.” Ed was grateful for the darkness to hide his embarrassment. “There are other, um, parts of you that haven’t escaped my notice now that I’m, you know, inhabiting them.”

He could hear the tentative smile in Roy’s voice. “Oh?”

“I’m just saying that you’re,” Ed said, “well-proportioned. And responsive.”

“You sneaky fuck. You already rubbed one out in the bathroom before bed, didn’t you?”

Ed shrugged, trying not to grin. “What do you want me to say? I was just curious.”

“You took my dick for a spin,” Roy said.

“I’ve taken it for a spin before.”

“Yeah, but always with me attached to it.”

Ed sighed. “Look, once you get your automail on I’ll make sure you have time for a shower. Then you can go crazy.” He paused. “Probably best to use the left hand though. You kind of need some test driving before you use the right.”

“This is,” Roy said slowly, “the most crazy-ass conversation that I have ever had. Hands down. And believe me, that is saying something. So while we’re on the subject, can I ask a weird question?”

Ed laughed. “It doesn’t get any weirder than this. Sure.”

“Do you think you smell good to me because I’m in your body and you think I smell good, or is it because I actually think that I smell good? You know, to myself?”

“Wow. That is, like, a fuckton of pronouns.”

Roy groaned. “I’m just saying that you smell good to me and I hope it’s because you, Ed, actually think I, Roy, smell good. I don’t want you to think I’m some sort of narcissist with my own smell or something.”

Ed counted off on his fingers. “Okay, one, yes I, Ed, think you, Roy, smell good. So probably it’s that. But two, I also think you’re a narcissist in general.” 

Roy snorted. “That’s General Narcissist to you.”

He said the line so matter-of-factly that Ed absolutely lost it, but the lack of sleep and the blood loss probably didn’t hurt matters. He clapped a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle his hysterical laughter. “Oh shit!” He pressed a hand over his side, trying to stop laughing. “Oh, hell, Roy, my fucking stitches.” 

Roy was laughing now too, curled up tightly against Ed as he attempted to muffle the sound. “I’m sorry!”

“You’re not even a little bit sorry.” Ed reached out with his free hand to find Roy’s chin, and he lifted it, kissing him. 

Roy pulled away after a moment, his breath warm against Ed’s face. “Fuck, I’m kissing myself.”

“No, you’re kissing me.”

“I mean, I’m kissing you, but also me, and God, this is confusing.” Roy sighed, resting his forehead against Ed’s, careful not to bump his bandaged cut. 

“We don’t have to,” Ed said softly. “It’s okay.”

“But I want to kiss you. I just don’t want you to think that I want to make out with myself.”

“Roy?”

“Yeah?”

“You kind of do, though, don’t you?” Ed nudged him under the blankets. “If I were you, I’d want to make out with me.” He let his head drop against the pillow. “These fucking pronouns. God!”

“Just stop.” Roy’s mouth gently brushed against Ed’s, the touch deepening into a kiss. He reached around Roy’s shoulder to cup the back of his head, his fingers threading into the soft hair at the nape of his neck. 

It was enough just to feel Roy against him, to know that somehow in spite of this entirely fucked-up experience, he still wanted to touch Ed, to be close to him. Ed felt his muscles slowly uncoil, savoring the warmth of Roy’s lips. 

“You know,” Roy said softly, breathing into the small space between them, “we’ve actually never slept in the same bed.”

“We’ve done lots of other stuff, though,” Ed said, fixing the pillows behind them and tugging Roy back against him. “Sleeping will be nice for a change of pace.” He smoothed a hand over Roy’s forehead. “You comfortable?”

“Considering we’re jammed into a twin bed, actually yes.” Ed felt the welcome weight of Roy’s head against his chest, his one good arm draped over Ed’s hips.

“Good.”

Roy lay in silence for a few minutes, but Ed could tell by his breathing that he hadn’t fallen asleep.

“You all right?”

Roy nodded against him. “I’ve actually never heard my own heartbeat before.”

“Really?” Ed said. “You never played doctor with a hot medic while you were in the army or anything?”

Roy laughed. “I think you have strange ideas about what happens in an army medical tent.”

“Probably.” 

“It’s weird,” Roy said. “It’s slower than I thought."

Ed blinked against the darkness, feeling the steady thrum inside his chest. “I love your heartbeat. It’s usually so calm.” He grinned. “Except when it’s not. It’s fun to get you all worked up.”

“You are exceptionally good at that,” Roy said. 

“I know.” 

“Yours feels different.” He exhaled, touching his chest. “I think it, kind of, skips sometimes.”

“Oh. Yeah, it does that. It’s just a side effect of the automail system messing with my heart’s electrical signals. It’s worse without automail on.” 

“That sounds… not okay.”

He smoothed a hand over Roy’s hair. “It doesn’t cause any harm, I promise. Ask Al, if you don’t believe me.” He huffed a laugh. “Just another quirk to add to the list.” 

Roy was quiet again. “You’ve had to get used to a lot of things.”

Ed took a long breath, and then groaned a bit when his stitches protested. “But I can walk. Run. Fight. Fuck. Everything I want to do, I can.” He pressed a kiss against Roy’s temple. “And as nice as your body is, I want mine back.”

“I know.” Roy hummed against Ed’s chest. “I just don’t want to break yours in the meantime.”

“I keep thinking,” Ed said, staving off another yawn, “what Bradley wanted to use this for. I mean, all I can think of is swapping into a body that has more advanced alchemical abilities. But that doesn’t make sense if alchemy is tied to souls…” he trailed off. “I tried to use mine when I first woke up, but it made me sick. It was right after we swapped, though, so maybe it was too much. I don’t know.”

Roy muttered against him. “I guess that’s as good a theory as any at two in the morning.”

“Shit, we really need to sleep.” Ed groaned. “Al will be in here in a few hours with more needles, probably, and you know things are going to get complicated as soon as Hughes and Hawkeye show up.”

“Because things aren’t, you know, complicated already.”

“Thank you, Roy, for that stunning analysis.”

“Stop talking and we can sleep.”

“Oh, like you haven’t been talking?”

“Shh. Ed. Quiet time now.”

“Whatever.” 

“Goodnight.”

*

It was a strange thing, Ed thought. Waking up without pain.

Yes, the tender areas around his stitches stung, and clearly twisting into a small bed had been a bit rough on his spine, but this body, Roy’s body, felt surprisingly good. He flexed the toes on both feet and the fingers of both hands, feeling the muscles and tendons respond to his every thought. He ran his hand along the collarbone and shoulder, feeling only smooth skin. He closed his eyes. He’d had dreams like this before, where he was whole again. 

He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. Roy’s body had to pee.

Ed disentangled himself from Roy, trying not to disturb him, and climbed out of bed. His left knee twinged, and Ed remembered Roy rubbing that sometimes at the end of the day; something about an injury back during the war. He walked slowly towards the bathroom, holding on to furniture as he went. He still wasn’t used to how this body moved. He made it into the bathroom and lifted the toilet seat, looking down at his crotch.

He definitely wasn’t used to this part. 

After getting a quick shower to rinse off the bloodstains from his skin, he put on pair of Al’s pants. His brother rebandaged his sutures and made him drink more water, muttering about what a terrible patient he was.

A few minutes later, Al came into the room with a leather case, setting it carefully on Roy’s bed. “This is the lightest set of automail we have on hand. I figured it would be the easiest for you to maneuver in since it’s your first try.”

Ed raked a towel over his wet head, still surprised when he saw the shadow of dark bangs hanging around his face. He liked Roy’s hair, but he really missed his own. Showering in Roy’s body was kind of like driving a road that he usually took at night during the day; he saw things that he might never have taken the time to notice, like the scar on his left hip or the birthmark on the inside of his right elbow. Having four limbs again though, even limbs that weren’t his own, was both fascinating and cruel all at once. 

“Do the arm first,” Ed said, dropping his damp towel on the other bed. 

Al frowned at him. “Hey. I just re-bandaged those. Don’t get them wet,” he said, gesturing at the gauze and tape swathed over Ed’s wounds. 

“I won’t,” Ed said, pulling one of Al’s shirts over his head painfully. Ed’s clothes were too small for Roy and they didn’t have anything of Roy’s besides his shredded uniform. 

Al used a soft cloth to make sure the port was clean. “Okay, Roy. So reattaching this will—“

“Hurt, right?” Roy interrupted, looking over at Ed.

“Yeah, but not as much as disconnecting.” Ed gave him what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “The arm is worse than the leg, for me at least.” 

Roy nodded. “It’s fine.” He took a breath. “I’m ready.”

Al prepped the automail arm for connection, and then counted down from three. When the arm activated, Roy bit back a cry. “Fuck me! Holy hell.” After a few deep breaths, he started moving the automail tentatively, waving his hand back and forth. “That is some really weird shit.”

“How does it feel?” Al asked, checking to make sure the port was aligned properly. 

“Good?” Roy moved the arm around in its socket, gently at first and then with a bit more vigor. “It doesn’t really hurt. It feels strangely…right. Like not as different from my other arm as I thought it would.”

Ed tapped the case the automail came in. “No one knows how to make them like Winry. She’s the best there is. I don’t wear this set as often because the metal’s a little softer and tends to scrape more easily, but it’s perfectly balanced.”

“You ready for the leg?”

Roy kept staring at his newfound arm, flexing the fingers. “Yeah. Go for it.”

Al nodded. “Okay. Then we’ll see if we can get you on your feet.”

Roy reacted similarly to the leg attachment, but Ed had to admit he handled the process with a lot more grace than most people. Of course, Roy had the advantage of already being in a body that was used to supporting automail.

“I’m fine,” Roy said, his voice tight as he rose from the bed, unsteady. “Let go.”

“Let us give you a hand,” Al said gently. “It takes getting used to.”

“I said, let go.” Roy gave Al and Ed a push, taking a few steps on his own before tripping and crashing spectacularly across the rug.

Kneeling down next to him, Ed gave him a wry smile. “It only took me months to figure out how to walk without thinking about every single step. I’m sure the great Roy Mustang will only need one or two minutes.”

Roy pushed himself up with a groan. “Shut up.”

With Ed’s help, Roy was able to take a turn around the room, but he wasn’t steady enough to manage the stairs. 

“You are not fucking carrying me.”

“I know. We’ll go together, one step at a time.” Ed slipped an arm around Roy, pulling him close. “You won’t fall. I promise.”

“Yeah, you’re not doing that,” Al said, tapping Ed’s shoulder. “I put a lot of work into those stitches. You go on ahead down. Slowly.”

Al and Roy made their way down the stairs slowly and by the time they reached the bottom, Ed could hear Roy panting for breath. “Let’s get you settled,” Al said, leading Roy towards the couch. 

Ed took his other arm, murmuring encouragements. “It’s exhausting at first,” he said, his voice pitched for Roy, “but you’re doing great. Anyway, it’s not like you need to get used to it.”

Al retrieved a breakfast tray from the kitchen. “You both need to eat. And Ed, make sure you drink something besides coffee, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ed grabbed a glass of orange juice, gulping it down to satisfy his brother. Roy’s body didn’t wake up ravenous like he did, and it was a little unnerving. 

There was a knock at the door, and Al jumped up. “I’ll get it.”

Ed lifted his eyebrows at Roy. “Here we go.”

Hughes and Hawkeye came in, each exchanging a few pleasantries with Al before entering the living room and staring at Ed and Roy. 

Hawkeye gave Ed a steely glare. “Sir, I don’t even know where to start.”

“I’m not ‘sir’, Hawkeye.” Ed pointed at Roy. “He’s the one you want.”

She pressed her lips together. “Right. Sorry, Ed.”

Hughes took a step closer to Roy, a forced smile on his face. “Are you really in there, Roy?”

“You think we’d make something like this up?” Roy growled, which was made slightly less menacing by the fact he had a mouthful of muffin and a blanket around his shoulders.

“You’re sure,” Hughes said, turning to Al. “You’re absolutely sure.”

“Sadly, I am sure,” Al said, scratching the back of his head. “I’ll let them fill you in.”

Ed explained the story as best he could, and Roy filled in some of the details, but it was clear from Hawkeye and Hughes’ expressions that they didn’t quite follow the thread where some of the alchemy was concerned. Hawkeye leaned forward in her seat, arms crossed over her chest. “You went in there alone, sir. I don’t understand.”

“I,” Roy said, looking down at his automail hand, opening and closing it. “I knew there was something related to alchemy down there.” His voice dropped. “I had a feeling it might be dangerous.”

Al made an indelicate sound. “Oh, so you called up my brother and dragged him into it?”

“He didn’t drag me into anything.” Ed grunted. “It doesn’t matter now. It happened. We just need to figure out how to undo it.”

Hughes scratched the back of his head. “I put the Prime Minister off for now, but we don’t have too long before they’re going to want to talk to you, flu or not. So the sooner, the better.”

Ed rolled his eyes. Like he gave a shit about the Prime Minister. “What about Scieczka?  
“I spoke with her this morning. She should be here in an hour or two. She said she had a few leads.” Hughes sipped his coffee. “She’s the only one who would know Bradley’s collection well enough.”

Hawkeye’s face was set, hard as flint. “What if her leads don’t pan out? What’s our next step?” She gestured at Ed, and then sighed and gestured at Roy. “Why can’t you just recreate the floor with alchemy?”

Ed raked his hand through his--Roy’s--hair, surprised again by how short it was. “I tried. My alchemy isn’t working right in this body.” He hesitated. “Maybe it was the shock of what happened. Maybe if we tried again--”

“Neither of you are in great shape for that,” Al cut him off.

“We may not have an option.” Ed dragged a hand down his face, which he remembered halfway down was not his face. “The transmutation circle is broken for now, but we may need to repair it in order to swap us back.”

“Unless you need a different circle to swap you back. It could be a one-way street.” Al pulled out a tablet of paper. “Can you draw what it looked like?”

Al turned his back on them, talking in a low voice to Hawkeye and Hughes while Ed busied himself with trying to remember what the circle looked like. Roy was right-handed, and Ed had become a lefty, though not necessarily by choice, so it was hard to figure out which hand to use. Roy pressed in against his side, looking spent and shaky. “That line’s wrong,” Roy said, pointing with his automail hand. “It was more like an oval.”

“You’re the better artist. You should be doing this.”

Roy sighed. “I don’t think that’s going to work right now.”

“Are you okay?” He eyed Roy carefully. It was bizarre to see what his own exhaustion looked like from someone else’s perspective. “Do you need some pain meds?”

“I don’t know.” He pressed his flesh hand against his forehead. “I just feel really shitty.” 

Al lifted his head, catching Ed’s eye, and crossed the room. “Everything okay?”

“Can you check on him?” Ed said, keeping his voice quiet so as not to alarm Hughes and Hawkeye. 

Roy huffed a breath. “I’m fine.”

Al reached out and felt his pulse. “It’s a little fast. Does anything hurt?”

“Just my head.”

Al touched his forehead. “You feel warm to me. I think you may be running a fever. I’ll get something to bring it down.”

Ed followed him out of the room into the kitchen. “What do you think it is?”

“I have no idea! I’m not even technically a doctor yet, Ed. And I don’t know if this is physiological or related to the transmutation. It could be the body’s reaction to the trauma, or the automail damage, or it could be something else entirely.” Al dug through a basket on the counter to pull out some paracetemol. “You didn’t tell me about your alchemy not working in this body.”

“I mean, I tried to use it, but the ceiling had just collapsed and I was bleeding and trying to find Roy.”

“What happened when you tried?”

He remembered the sick feeling. “It was like a wave of badness and then I threw up. I didn’t try again after that.”

“Alchemy isn’t tied to bodies. I don’t need to tell you of all people that. You should be able to use yours whatever body you’re in.” Al hesitated. “I take back what I said earlier. I think maybe you should try it again.” He took out a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water. “See if you can turn this to ice.”

“Fine.” Ed clapped his hands, and then reached out and touched the glass. The sick feeling rolled over him again, and he just barely made it to the sink before he threw up.

“Ed!” Al’s hand was a point of warmth between his shoulder blades. “Are you okay?” 

“Ugh. That sucks.” Ed rinsed his mouth out. “Did it work, at least?”

Al picked up the glass, which was frozen solid. “Well, your alchemy still works. I don’t think Roy’s body is a big fan, though.”

Ed held on to the edge of the sink, catching his breath. “That was just something small and it knocked me on my ass.” He wiped at his mouth. “What do you think’s wrong?”

“I’m guessing,” Al said, tapping his chin, “Roy’s body is reacting to channeling alchemy without a circle. He’s never done that before. But--”

There was a shout from the living room, and Hawkeye appeared in the doorway, breathless. “Al! We need you.”

Al spun and raced out of the room, with Ed lagging behind. He was still feeling ill and pain radiated from his midsection from his wound. When he made it out to the living room, he found Roy sprawled on the couch, not moving, with Al checking him over and Hughes and Hawkeye standing nearby, their expressions muted. 

“Oh, my God.” Ed pressed a hand to his chest, dropping to his knees next to the couch. “What’s wrong?”

“He just passed out.” Hughes gripped the back of the cushions. “We were just talking and then he slumped over.” He looked shaken, his face pale against his dark uniform. “He’s not okay. We have to get you switched back  _ now _ .”

Panic buzzing through him, Ed moved closer as Al examined Roy, smoothing a hand over his forehead. In that moment it hardly seemed strange that it was his own body he was touching. “Roy. Wake up.” 

“He’s not asleep, brother,” Al said sharply, using a penlight to check Roy’s pupils. 

“We need to get him to a hospital,” Hawkeye said.

“I don’t know what they’re going to do differently for him,” Al said. “He’s running a fever and his vitals are elevated, but I don’t think what’s wrong with him is entirely physical.” Al blew out a breath. “At first I thought it was to do with automail, but now, I think something went wrong with the transmutation.” 

Ed felt a coil of fear slide into his belly. He stared down at his own face, passive in unconsciousness. “Is he going to wake up?”

Al looked stricken. “I don’t know.”

Hawkeye’s gaze was sharp. “He needs to go to the hospital. If his body starts to fail--”

“They won’t be able to do anything other than treat his symptoms.”

“You don’t have any equipment to treat him. What if he needs medications? Oxygen? Fluids? We’re in your damn living room.” Hughes stood next to Hawkeye, their stances mirrored. “I agree with Hawkeye. We need outside help. I trust you to the ends of the earth, Al, but you’re not fully trained yet. We have to keep him alive.” 

“I know!” Al spat, rising to his full height as he flung out a hand towards the couch. His voice rang against the high ceilings of the room. “That’s my brother’s body! I understand what’s at stake!” 

The coil of fear tightened. Ed hadn’t considered what might happen if one of them didn’t survive. Would he be in Roy’s body forever? How did that even work? Would he have to pretend to be Roy for the rest of his life? His horrible, twisted life where Roy was dead and he had to look at the love of his life’s  _ face _ every day in the mirror? He was already picturing himself at the funeral where they were putting his own body into the ground when Al touched his shoulder. “Ed? Ed, look at me.”

Ed realized he was shaking, and he leaned against Al’s touch. “Sorry.” 

Silence fell for a long moment, and Ed could see Al’s jaw working. His brother pointed at Roy, his voice under control this time. “I understand your concerns. I have them, too. We need to put our heads together and figure this out. We’re on the same side. Let’s act like it.”

“The Brigadier General is in there,” Hughes said, his tone cool and low. “It’s our job to protect him.”

Al crossed his arms over his chest. “With all due respect, Hughes, you don’t want to cross me on this.”

The doorbell rang, and Hughes went to answer it. He returned moments later with Sciezka in tow, carrying several suitcases. “Hi, everyone! How are--” Sciezka’s arms were full of books, and bags slung over each shoulder. “Nevermind. I can see how you are.” She dropped the stack of books on the table. “So. Bring me up to speed.”

It was kind of like a game of round robin, where Ed started and Al added, while Hughes and Hawkeye gave their take, until finally they got around to the present dilemma. Ed sighed. “I don’t know why I’m not being affected the same way, but Roy’s not doing well, and if it gets critical, I don’t--”

Sciekza cut him off, hands flying as she talked. “Oh, he could absolutely die in there. There’s plenty of anecdotal evidence to suggest that…” Ed glared at her, and she changed tack. “So souls switching bodies isn’t exactly a new thing. It’s happened quite a bit in alchemic history. Well, more like Alkahestric history, since they started it, but anyway.” She tapped the book on the top of the stack. “Getting souls into different bodies isn’t usually the hard part, though. It’s the swapping them back that seems to be more complicated.”

“Why would Bradley have this? Was that the only point of that transmutation circle?” He handed Sciezka the drawing. 

“Oh, that is incredibly helpful.” Sciezka jumped up, running to one of the suitcases and flinging it open. “I’ve definitely seen that design before. I mean, I’ve been reading through his library anyway, but when I got the call last night, I started going through every alchemy book I could find. Some of Bradley’s journals were in there, too.” She made a gagging sound. “There’s some things in there I wish I could unsee, but anyway. Here.” She handed Ed a leather journal, flipping towards the middle. “See? It’s the same one.”

There it was, drawn in blank ink on the page, with Bradley’s spiky handwriting all around it. “What was it for?”

“Well, that’s the $50,000 cen question, isn’t it?” A smile appeared on Sciezka’s face, which quickly slipped off when none of them returned it. “It’s not entirely clear from what he wrote.”

Ed slumped forward in his chair. “I thought you said you had some leads.”

“I said it’s not entirely clear from the journals, but I have some theories.” Sciezka grabbed two other books from the suitcase. “The circles were definitely meant for transmuting soul matter, which is obviously what happened. But I don’t think they were specifically made for that purpose. I think it’s possible they were based on the design for swapping souls from body to body, but Bradley tried to tweak them. He may have been trying to put multiple souls in one body.”

Ed grunted. “How very homunculi of him.”

“Or,” Sciekza said, “he might have been trying to pull alchemic ability from one soul and give it to another. Kind of like an alchemy transplant.” She was far too chipper for someone who’d been reading through the night and traveling by rail. “Think about it. What if you could just take your alchemy abilities and just shove them into someone else? I mean, yours in particular would be incredibly useful, since you don’t need a circle and all.”

“But I can’t even do basic alchemy right now without throwing up.” 

Hughes and Hawkeye’s glances slid to him. “Wait, what?” Hawkeye said.

“I can do alchemy, at least simple stuff,” Ed clarified, suddenly feeling defensive. “But it makes me puke and feel like I’m going to pass out.” 

“Whoa. Whoa.” Al held up a hand. “Okay. So the circles swapped your souls into each other’s bodies. That part worked. But what if your alchemy didn’t quite make it from your body to Roy’s? Like maybe you only have part of it, and Roy has most of it? Could it be some kind of,” Al grasped to find words. “Alchemy sickness?” 

Ed’s chest constricted. “Because his soul never saw the Gate.”

Al thumped his hand on the armrest. “And his soul is now in a body that possess alchemy that isn’t compatible with it. So it’s a physical reaction in the body to the metaphysical disconnect of his soul and your alchemy.”

“Oh, shit. Because the circles were designed to separate souls from alchemy. It makes sense, in a fucked-up kind of way.” Given the clues they had, it was the best possible theory. Ed raked a hand over his hair. “Got anything for that, Sciezka?”

She blinked at him. “I have a thought, but it’s going to take some time for me to collate everything.” She glanced at the room. “I need space to work and some quiet.”

Hawkeye led her over to the small dining room off the kitchen, while Ed returned to Roy’s side, watching as Al checked his vitals. “His fever’s a little higher. I think I have something in my kit upstairs. I’ve been smuggling supplies home from the hospital from time to time since you’re usually the one that needs fixing,” he said, looking at Ed. “I’ll be right back.”

Ed sat back on the chair beside Roy, reaching out to brush his hair from his forehead. “Roy told me,” Ed said softly, “that you know.”

“I kind of figured it out,” Hughes said, taking the seat opposite Ed. “I’ve known the man a long time.” He looked at Ed over his glasses. “You’re good for him. Present circumstances notwithstanding.”

“He’s good for me, too.” Ed felt his breath catch a little, and he tried to steady himself. The weirdness of having this conversation with Hughes while looking like Roy and sitting next to his unconscious body couldn’t be measured. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel.”

“I’ve never liked Roy being alone. He needs someone to have his back, someone to look out for him.” A wry smile turned Hughes’ mouth. “Someone who will challenge him when he’s being an idiot.”

Ed lifted his chin. “I thought that was you.”

“It is me. Roy is my best friend. He’s the best man I know. I would support him with my dying breath.” Hughes stopped. “But he needs more than that.” Hughes’s expression softened. “He needs someone who’s going to love him unconditionally. Who brightens his life and makes him laugh and gives him a reason to get up in the morning.” He huffed a breath. “For me, it’s Gracia. And I kind of think for him, that’s you.”

Ed grew still at Hughes’ words. “Seriously?” It sounded like Hughes was all in on their relationships, but Ed wasn’t exactly sure that Roy felt that way. Or that he did. Sure, he’d idly pictured what it would be like to live with Roy, but they weren’t even spending the night yet with each other. Thinking in terms of Hughes-Gracia levels seemed a bit far fetched. 

“You get him. You get what it’s like to have huge responsibilities on your shoulders. You understand the burden that alchemy can be in ways no one else can.” Hughes leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “He’s in love with you.”

Ed’s heart rate suddenly spiked. “That’s not… I don’t think so.”

“Ed. Come on. I’m not other people. I know things.” Light flashed over his glasses as they caught the sun through the window. “And I know you feel the same.”

Before Ed could respond, Al rushed back down the stairs with his kit, joining them back in the living room. “This should help bring the fever down.” He pulled up Roy’s sleeve, flicking bubbles out of a syringe before giving him an injection. 

Ed sat on the edge of the couch beside him, taking Roy’s limp hand in his own and pressing them both against his chest. “How long does it take to work?”

“It shouldn’t be too long.” 

Hawkeye emerged from the dining room, her face a mask. “How’s he doing?”

Al set aside his thermometer and kit. “We’ll see in about ten minutes.” 

She let out a long breath. “I appreciate everything you’re doing for him.” She rested a hand on Al’s shoulder. “I know this is hard on you, too. Thank you.” Al flushed, dropping his gaze to the floor, muttering something Ed couldn’t hear. Hawkeye pinned Ed with a look, and he realized he was still holding Roy’s hand. “Hughes. Remind me that Havoc owes me fifty cens.” 

Ed sniffed. “Oh, my God. There was a bet?” He frowned. “And Havoc bet against us?”

“Oh, nothing like that.” Hawkeye shrugged. “We knew it was inevitable. It was which month it was going to be official.”

“So everyone knew?” Ed said, scowling at them all.

“Worst kept secret in Amestris, brother,” Al said, with that annoying half-smile he liked to throw around when he was being especially cheeky.

Roy’s hand suddenly tensed within Ed’s grip, and Ed drew a sharp breath. He leaned over him, touching his cheek with his other hand. “Roy. Roy, it’s me.”

Roy let out a low groan, drawing air between his gritted teeth. “Ed?” His eyelids flickered, his gaze finally settling on Ed. “You’re still me.”

“It’s okay. Don’t try to move.” He kept up his grip on Roy’s automail hand. “You passed out. You had a fever. You--”

Al tapped Roy’s arm, motioning for him to be quiet as he listened to Roy’s chest with his stethoscope, frowning. A few moments later, he draped it around his neck, peering down at Roy. “How are you feeling?”

“Really tired.” Roy leaned his head heavily against Ed’s hand. “What’s wrong with me?”

“We think something went wrong with the transmutation. Something with alchemy.” Ed jerked his chin towards the other room. “Sciezka’s here. She’s working on an idea.”

He brought up his flesh hand, pressing it against their joined fingers, and he groaned. “Something’s wrong. Really wrong.” Roy’s body started to shake, and suddenly the automail hand wrapped in Ed’s fingers became a blade. Ed pulled away just in time, and the blade snicked a cut in the fabric of the couch. 

Roy looked up at him, eyes wide. “Oh, fuck,” he said, and then turned on his side. Ed realized what was going to happen moments before it did, and he grabbed a decorative bowl off the end table, getting it under Roy’s head just in time. 

Al’s expression was complete shock. “Holy shit.”

Ed brushed Roy’s hair back, keeping it from the bowl. “It’s okay,” he soothed. “We’re going to get this sorted. I promise.”

“Did I just…” Roy’s breath came in short gasps. “That’s not my alchemy.”

“Yeah. I know.” He waited until Roy met his eyes. “Touch your hands, and then picture what you want your arm to be.” He spoke softly, slowly. “You’re just reshaping it.”

Roy followed his instructions, and moments later, his automail was back to its original shape. He collapsed back against the cushions. “I’m so tired,” he murmured.

“We think you have most of my alchemy ability, that it didn’t transfer over with my soul. It may be why you’re struggling so hard.” Ed put an arm around him, pulling him closer. “Try to stay awake, okay?”

*

Ed rubbed his wrist against his eyes, groaning when he bumped his stitches. “Shit. I fell asleep, didn’t I?”

“Not exactly.” Al pushed a glass of water into his hands. “You weren’t out so long.” 

He looked up, blinking. “Where is everyone?”

“Roy’s in the den with Hughes and Hawkeye. Sciezka’s still in the dining room. She thinks she might be close to something.” Al sipped a mug of tea. “I hope she’s right.”

“How’s Roy?”

“He’s awake, but very weak. I’m worried,” Al said, taking a long drag from his cup. “About what’s happening to your body. It’s already been through so much.”

Ed waved his hands. “All that matters is getting us back where we belong.”

“Sure, but your body needs to be healthy enough for you to get back inside it.” Al let out a long breath as he sat beside Ed, touching a hand to his forehead. “You have a fever now, too. This whole situation is making you both ill. I’m doing what I can, but we are running out of time.”

No wonder he felt like such shit. Ed leaned against his brother’s shoulder. “It’s going to be difficult to pull much off if Roy and I can’t use our alchemy. Or at least control it properly without puking our guts out.”

Al rubbed his hands together. “Well, good thing you have me, then.”

“I don’t want you mixed up in this, Al.”

“Mmm, well, a bit late for that, wouldn’t you say?” He bumped Ed’s arm with his elbow. “For the record, I would like to point out that I told you so this morning.”

Ed sighed. “Yeah, yeah. You’re always right. I would do well to remember that.”

“I am always right. And you always charge ahead. It’s why we make such a great team. I’m there to pull you back before you go over a cliff.” Al’s bangs fell over his forehead, and Ed suddenly thought of how he looked when he was little, how brilliant and innocent he was then. Maybe they both were.

“Do you think this is a cliff?” Ed cleared his throat. “With Roy?”

“Maybe.” Al lifted his chin. “But I think you’ve already gone over the edge on that one. You might as well see what’s there.”

Ed pushed himself to his feet, feeling a little shaky, and Al steadied him with a palm against his spine. “It’s hilarious how quickly you just accepted what happened. I mean, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“I would know you in whatever form you popped up in front of me, brother.” Al grinned. “There is no mistaking Edward Elric’s voice, not matter whose mouth it’s coming out of.” He led Ed to the dining room. “Let’s check on Sciezka. At least she can bring you up to speed.”

When they entered the dining room, the entire space was covered in opened books and stacks of paper. Rolled parchment spilled onto the floor. On the walls, Sciezka had started drawing patterns in chalk and making notes to herself in languages Ed was certain he’d never seen before. “How’s it going, Sciezka?” Ed asked, almost afraid to know the answer.

Sciezka spun, her glasses perched up on her head. “Oh! Hey, Al. Roy. Sorry, Ed.” She finished writing on the wall. “I needed space to write and ran out. I hope it’s okay. It shouldn’t ruin the paint.”

“It’s fine,” Ed said. “Have you figured anything new out?”

“I have figured out quite a few things, most of them unrelated to this situation, but yes,” Sciezka said, breathless as she leaned over the table. “I think I found the transmutation circles Bradley was trying to meld together. And I think,” she said, taking a sip of tea, “Wow, that’s cold. I think that, possibly, you could actually create the right circle and undo what’s been done.”

“So we wouldn’t try to fix Bradley’s, then?” Al said.

“I guess she’s saying there’s no point,” Ed said, using the edge of the table to hold himself up. God, he felt exhausted. “It didn’t work properly in the first place. Even if we fix it, it’s not going to put our souls and alchemy back as they were.”

“Exactly. His array is all wrong.” She tapped the pages in front of her. “You’re going to have to make this from scratch. And make it right.”

Sciezka’s drawings were sketches, nothing careful, but Ed could see how the lines from the two arrays could, if done just so, might fit together. “This thing is big,” Ed said. “The one in Bradley’s house was huge. Where are we going to be able to construct this array? And without inviting unwanted attention? 

Al chewed on his bottom lip, and then a slow smile spread across his face. “I have an idea.”

*

Ed stood on the back porch, Roy clinging to his shoulder to stay upright. Ed had an arm around his waist, pressing their sides together, and he could feel Roy shivering. It was the end of the day, and the sun cast lavender and aqua brushstrokes against the treeline far behind their house.

From where he stood in the back of the yard, Al waved his arms. “I think this is big enough!” he shouted.

Hughes and Hawkeye stood behind Roy, which Ed supposed was to catch him if he fell. “Is he out of his mind?” Hawkeye said quietly, but Ed wasn’t sure which one of them she was directing her question to.

“It’s the best idea we’ve got,” Ed said, rubbing his arm against Roy’s bicep. Which was technically his own, which still threw Ed for a loop. “It’s a good thing our neighbors aren’t right next door.” It had been one of the reasons they chose that house, Ed remembered. They were used to a little more space and land between houses, and this one, even though it was on a residential street, had a bit more acreage. They had to pay the a local kid a fair amount to do the lawn for them, but it was worth it for the extra privacy. 

Al returned to the porch, his sleeves rolled up and his expression determined. “All right. Does everyone understand what they need to do?”

Hawkeye put her hand on Roy’s shoulder. “We’re not leaving him.” 

Al shook his head. “You have to. You and Hughes and Sciezka have to be well outside the array. Preferably in the house.”

Sciezka threw up her hands. “No complaint from me. No offense, but this stuff freaks me out.” 

Ed reached out, touching Al’s wrist. “You’re sure. You’re sure that you’re comfortable with this.”

A rough laugh slipped out of Al’s mouth. “Not at all. But what choice do we have?” He grunted. “Besides, when did comfortable ever factor into anything we’ve ever done?”

“Fair enough.” Ed pulled Roy a little closer. “You still with me?”

Roy blinked at him, his face flushed with fever. “I’m here,” he said, voice soft. 

Hughes put out his hand, giving Al a firm handshake before pulling him in for a hug. “Good luck. I believe in you.”

“Thanks, Hughes.” He waved them off, gesturing towards the house. “You need to get inside. I’m serious. And stay in there until one of us comes to get you. Understand?”

“You be careful, Al,” Hawkeye said. She reached out and for a second Ed thought she might touch him, but she pulled back. “You’re not indestructible anymore.”

“I know.” Al’s smile was hesitant. “Okay. Here goes.”

They turned away from the back of the house and stepped onto the grass, following Al. Roy’s movements were halting and slow, and he gasped for breath as they moved, the sounds grinding like glass into Ed’s ears. The grass was high, higher than the community liked it to be, but Ed and Al had been busy with school and hadn’t been paying much attention to lawn maintenance. 

Al came alongside Ed, cupping the back of his neck. “You listen. I’m making this array. You have one job, and that’s to get the the two of you into position, you hear me?”

“I hear you.”

“This is going to work. And the next time I see you, you’ll be you again, all right?” Al’s voice was shot through with steel. He was stronger, stronger than Ed had ever been. 

“Right.” He threw his arms around Al, holding tight. It never got old, being able to hug his brother. 

“See you on the other side, Mustang,” Al said, giving Roy a salute before crossing to the far side of the lawn. 

Roy’s head lolled on Ed’s shoulder. “If this doesn’t work, if something happens,” Roy said, his breathing ragged, “I need to tell you something.”

“Oh, my God, if you think I’m letting you make some idiot deathbed comments, you are out of your mind.” Ed kept his gaze trained on Al. “Enough of that. Tell me yourself in like three minutes.”

“Ed, listen,” Roy said, tugging on his arm. 

“I’m not listening!” Ed turned to face him. “Whatever you have to say I want it to come out of your mouth, in your voice! So stop talking right now and save it until I can hear it from you!”

Al lifted his hands, giving the signal, and then clapped his hands. The sound rang out over the grass, blending with the noise of cicadas and crickets. Al put his hands down, and suddenly the grass rippled with light, shaking as if the wind had come up. Ed watched with a mixture of pride and amazement as a stunning array appeared, drawn as intricately in the grass as it had been on paper. It was beautiful and terrifying to behold, and not for the first time, Ed was grateful Al was on his side. 

“Come on, Roy. We’re almost there.” Roy’s knees buckled, and Ed had to put an arm around his chest to keep him upright. “Stay with me.”

“Ed,” Roy said, his voice thin, rasping. 

In his peripheral vision, he saw Al heading back towards the house, giving him a thumbs-up. Al had to get away or there was a chance he could be drawn into the transmutation, and the last thing they needed was a third soul involved, especially Al’s. Ed put Roy in the first circle, helping him down onto his knees. “All you have to do,” Ed said, “is clap, and then put your hands down. That’s it. You’ll hear me count to three, and on three, we’re activating this together. You understand?”

Roy’s head bobbed forward, and Ed’s stomach twisted, afraid for a moment he might pass out. Instead, Roy looked up, grim determination in his gaze. “Ed,” he said, voice low, “this is real.”

Bending down, Ed kissed him softly, smoothing a hand over his cheek, which burned with fever. “I know.” He stumbled upright, struggling to get to his own place in the second circle. “I’m counting!” he shouted. “Three, two, one!”

Ed clapped, and flung his hands down, slamming the ground with his palms. The sick feeling rose up, but it was overwhelmed by a wash of light that started in Ed’s fingertips and ran through his body, chasing through his veins like lightning. The sky lit up, and for a moment, Ed felt like he was floating, hovering above the ground as if even gravity refused to obey alchemy’s command. He heard Roy screaming, but then he realized he heard himself screaming, and a wave of pain crashed through him like an avalanche, until the light was gone and the sun went down, leaving him in peaceful darkness.

*

“Ed.”

“Ed.”

Hands were on his face, on his neck. Someone held his hand. His mouth tasted like ash. His eyelids weighed more than Roy’s Roadster.

Roy.

Ed cracked open his eyes, and Al’s face hovered above him. “Ed. Can you hear me?”

He blinked. “Where’s Roy?”

“He’s here. He’s right here.” Al’s voice was reassuring, warm. He had such a kind voice. 

Ed lifted his right hand, holding it up. In the light from the back porch, he could see it was automail, but he would have known in the dark from the weight of it, from the way it felt against his sleeve. Pain swept up his spine, bruises from their encounter at the manor. He winced, trying to sit up, but Al pressed gently against his shoulder. “Just relax for a minute, okay?”

“Listen to your brother, Ed,” Roy said. Just the sound of his voice was enough to wrangle a choked laugh out of Ed. He suddenly realized the hand holding his was Roy’s, and he squeezed back.

“You’re you again,” Ed said, looking up into Roy’s beautiful face. He was stunning, even bruised and with stitches over one eye. “It worked.” Ed’s breath hitched in his chest. “It worked. Al, you did it.”

“The three of us did it.” The satisfaction in Al’s voice tugged a smile onto Ed’s lips. “Roy’s alchemy is back to normal, so we’re assuming yours is as well, but we’ll want to check when you feel up to it.” Al rested a hand on Ed’s chest. “Your body had a more difficult time with the switch, so you were unconscious a little longer.”

“Is Roy going to be okay?” Ed asked, his own voice sounding strange in his ears.

“Roy’s going to be fine,” Roy said, kissing the back of Ed’s hand. “You’re the one we were worried about.”

Ed sighed, feeling the weight of the last two days slowly dissipate. He felt like he’d been wrung through. Being in a body that didn’t experience pain so constantly had given him a reprieve, and now that he was back in his own body, the discomfort threatened to overwhelm him. He was horrified to feel the beginning of tears in the corner of his eyes, and he shut his eyes, trying to ward them off. 

“Let’s get you inside,” Al said, and moments later, he felt strong arms pick him up, cradling him against a warm chest. “Come on, brother. I’ve got you.”

*

Roy stood shirtless in front of the mirror, looking down at the thin scar on his midsection. The stitches had come out earlier that day, and the wound was healing well. “Al is really good. This will barely leave a mark,” he said. “You have to give him credit for that.”

“He gets credit for saving our asses. Him and Sciezka both. Otherwise we’d probably in a hospital wasting away somewhere, stuck in each other’s bodies.” Ed lay naked on Roy’s bed, stretching out like a starfish. His muscles still ached, and the bruises on his body were still healing, but it felt good to be on the mend. His alchemy was back to normal, as was Roy’s, and the grass in the backyard had been mowed, leaving no trace of the array behind. 

Roy peeled off his pants, climbing onto the bed next to Ed and bumping their shoulders together. “You know, I really didn’t take the time to appreciate your hotness while I was in your body. Kind of a shame, really.”

“You were kind of burning up with fever there for awhile, so yeah, understandable.” Ed gave Roy’s ass a playful tap. “I did get a little more enjoyment out of you, I think.”

“Well,” Roy said, “I mean, who wouldn’t? With this gorgeous display?” He dissolved into laughter and Ed caught him by the chin, kissing him hard.

“You are gorgeous,” Ed said when he pulled away for a breath.

“See, that’s my line,” Roy said, sliding a hand down Ed’s chest. “You’re like a fucking statue carved out of marble.”

“Mostly marble. Partly metal.”

Roy sobered at that. “I’m glad I know what it feels like. Being you. Even just for a day or so. I’m not saying I understand it. I’m just saying I’m glad I got a glimpse.” He smoothed a palm over Ed’s cheek, kissing him. “I want to be good at this.”

Ed laughed against his mouth. “What, kissing? You’re pretty damn good at it already. Just the right amount of tongue, you know?”

“Not kissing.” Roy groaned. He gestured between them. “At this. At being with you.”

Ed traced the shape of his face, careful not to brush against his healing cut. “You’re good at that, too.”

Roy pushed up, straddling him and bending down to press kisses against his neck. “Seeing how much pain you deal with all the time,” he said, his voice low, “I just want to take some of that away. You deserve to feel cared for. To feel precious.” He look a long breath, speaking against Ed’s skin. “Loved.”

The word reverberated in Ed’s blood, carried along with his quickening pulse. He thought about what Hughes had said, and a little tremor went through him. “That’s,” he said, “a lot.”

“You told me to wait,” Roy said, and Ed realized when Roy’s hand lay against his cheek that he wasn’t the only one who was a little shaky. “Until I was me again.”

“Right.” 

Roy huffed a breath against his neck. “I don’t expect you to say it back. I just needed you to know how I feel. I know that you--”

“I love you, too,” Ed said, the words stealing all the air from his lungs. 

The light that warmed Roy’s dark eyes made Ed’s heart lose its pace for a moment. “It’s not just me?” he asked, and Ed realized he’d never seen Roy look more vulnerable. 

“It’s not just you.” Ed cupped the back of his neck, pulling him in for a long kiss that left both of them breathless. 

Roy chuckled against him, letting his hair hang down to brush Ed’s chest. “So what do we do now?”

Ed grinned at him. “I’m thinking have sex, go to sleep, get breakfast tomorrow, and go from there?”

Roy hummed against his throat. “You and your good ideas.”


End file.
